I really wanted to get behind this book, to find validation for being an unlikable weirdo. I guess I was expecting something more nuanced or transcendent. It wasn’t; it was a tough read about a tough life. This book wasn’t for me.

I’m glad, though, that veterans were featured prominently in stories and examples, but even that is sad in its own way.

I picked this up on impulse because I liked the cover and some of Lidia Yuknavitch's other works. I didn't realize until the end that this is based on a TED talk, but once I saw that detail I was like, oh yeah that makes sense, for what this is, which is sort of a collection of memoir-ish self help-ish essays with long quote-testimonials from other misfits.

Yuknavitch's main thesis is that pretty much everyone thinks of themself as being a misfit in some way but only a few people are actually fucked up enough to be REAL misfits, like for example if, like Yuknavitch, the death of your infant daughter leads you to have a mental breakdown which leads to you being homeless for several months. And also people who aren't real misfits should have more empathy for the real misfits, which sure, I buy that. It's certainly encouraging for people who have been through the kind of severe trauma Yuknavitch and her fellow misfits quoted here (mostly her students and fellow writers) have been through.

I dunno; it's a short read with some beautiful writing, but also...I haven't watched her TED talk yet but maybe you could just watch that and get the same effect?

Honestly, in spite of some moments of insight, this wasn't great. It was, however, the company I needed this evening, so for that much I'm grateful.

A lot heavier than I was anticipating - but I am very glad I read it. I know misfits and recognise my cajoling in encouraging them to conform. This book has brought this to my attention now. What is the price we pay for conforming? Strength and creativity through adversity, what would our world be without them?

My rating: 2.75 stars

While I appreciate Yuknavitch's honesty about her failures and even admire her ability to persevere despite it all, this short manifesto seemed more like a drawn-out therapy session writ large.

I agree with her assertion that we're not the stories we (as in the collective we of society) tell ourselves and that we need more empathy, especially for the homeless and downtrodden. But the book just seemed repetitive and the first-person stories she shares from her fellow misfits are just another, different form of the hero cycle, but a cycle nonetheless.

That being said, there is one big idea that will likely stick with me: that addiction is the obvious result of late capitalism. As we hunger for more likes and inundate each other with status updates and vacation photos, the difference between the junkie on the street and the middle-class, middle-aged clock watcher becomes less noticeable by the minute. Sayeth I as I write this book review on Goodreads for all my followers to see ...

Empathy and acceptance can be beautiful.